Sort Of, Man!

today's entry is what i entered for my response to the prompt 'describe the most emotional moment of your life' from the youtube creator institute application. here it is in its entirety:

attempting to describe the most emotional moment of my life using mere words (which are admittedly quite powerful) is like attempting to hold onto a handful of oil in a windstorm. but alas, you have asked, and so i shall answer — to the best of my ability.

the moment i saw my bride walking toward me down the aisle, my eyes berthed a body of saltwater comparable to that of the great salt lake, if not the pacific ocean. the grandest smile on any face, "canon in d" playing over the loud church speakers, white dress on fair skin — it's the stuff of dreams become reality. i had loved her before, but not as i loved her then, in that moment. in that moment, all that we had worked toward in our entire relationship, over the course of the... 4 years? 5 years? i had lost count, and who could think about mathematics at such a time? such a time at which there existed no time, no frame of reference aside from my eyes meeting hers in love, in passion, in complete agreement and oneness of determination and desire.

i loved my bride, and she loved me. it's a simple concept, really, but it felt a whole lot more complicated than that. all that we had been through up until that point had culminated in one single moment, where our eyes met and everything that was good and right in the world coursed through my veins like adrenaline. of course, the adrenaline that was actually flowing was most likely amplifying that feeling, but this is no time for scientific analysis. everything was... warm.

and then it was over.

it wasn't over in the sense that my love for her had ended, nor that that feeling i've just described had faded. the moment had ended, as all moments do, and life moved forward. when you think about a moment and really ponder its significance, it often seems to have existed outside of time. the best part about moments like those, if they are truly as great as we remember them to be, is that they never really stop. moments continue on into minutes, hours, days, months, and years. on april 28th, it will have been four years, to be precise.

to describe a moment is an achievable goal, but to describe a moment like that one, one that lingers on and continues and grows over a lifetime, is impossible. when the music ended, the formalities had been exchanged, we took each other's hands and began our lives together as more than just two people who loved one another deeply — we became a family.

rtotd #0014 - this blog post.